Julianna

Iwanted to change the subject off my father. I wasn't uncomfortable talking about him. I was uncomfortable that Roman seemed to understand too much. This strange intimacy was unnerving. It went against every logical thought of how close I could feelto a man who was practically a stranger, how connected I should feel to a man I'd only just met.

I found that small puckered scar on his shoulder and ran my finger over it. "What's this?"

For a second it seemed a flash of something dark went across his eyes. Then it was gone. "It's a scar."

I almost rolled my eyes. "Obviously. How did you get it?"

He said nothing.

"It looks like…" I frowned as I leaned in closer. The shape, round with a slight crater, the size of a penny. I'd seen it before. I'd seen it before at work. "Is that...a bullet wound?"

Roman grabbed my hand and pulled it off his scar. He didn't seem to like me touching it. "It's nothing."

Nothing?

I stared at him. His face was totally closed off, his gaze avoiding mine. Except now I could see a glimpse of the darkness that simmered under the surface. It didn't really come as a shock to me. I'd sensed it even from the moment we met.

I opened my mouth to ask him more. A ringing cut me off. Roman grabbed his phone from above his head and pressed a button, cutting it off.

"My alarm," he explained, his voice sounding strained. "It's seven. I have to be at the airport by eight. My ride will be here in ten minutes."

I nodded and forced myself to pull away from him. I felt so cold and empty at the thought of never seeing him again. I stood and turned, walking back to the bedroom where my clothes were waiting. They had arrived freshly laundered hours ago. By then neither of us mentioned my leaving early.

Roman called my name. I didn't stop or turn to acknowledge him. I was struggling with a sudden flood of emotion, unexpected in its intensity. This was unfair. Why did I have to meet him, to glimpse the kind of intimacy and closeness I could have, only to have him disappear out of my life forever?

Roman and I dressed side by side, the silence growing thicker. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him as he pulled on jeans over his hard body. I tried to memorize the lines of his beautiful torso before he shrugged on a button up shirt over it. Even putting on clothes he was mesmerizing. I leaned against the drawers as he pulled out a duffel bag, still half packed, and threw a few more things in.

"You pack light."

"I wasn't planning on staying."

That stung. I turned away to slip on my other heel. "Of course, you weren't." How stupid are you, Julianna? Did you expect him to stay in Verona for you after one night?

I felt his hand on my arm. He turned me to face him. When I glanced up his features were drawn and dark. "I don't want to leave you."

"But you have to. Right?"

"Right." He paused, then licked his lips, lips that I would miss like crazy. Lips that gave me soul-consuming, brain-dizzying kisses that I would, from this day forward, compare all other kisses to. His eyes shone with a sudden light. "Come with me."

This took me by such surprise that I laughed out loud. "Sure," I joked. "I'll call in sick to work and skip town."

"I'm serious." His features grew hard and set.

I blinked. "What?"

"Come with me right now. We could go to Paris. You told me you've always wanted to see it." I had, earlier when we'd been talking about the things we'd always wanted to do but never done. "There are always spare seats in first class."

Paris? First class? Right now?I'd never even left the country, let alone traveled in an airplane first class.

"I don't have anything with me," I said weakly.

"I'll buy you whatever you need. We can stop by your place, pick up your passport."

"What about your studies? What about London?"

"They're not going anywhere." He shrugged. "I take time off all the time."

I shook my head, unable to believe what he was suggesting. "You're crazy."

He grabbed me by the upper arms, searching my face. "But it's the best kind of crazy."

"I…" Me, go to Paris with him?

He let out a growl. "Why are you fighting me again? I don't want this to end yet. Neither do you. Leave Verona with me. I promise, the second that you want to come home I'll have you on the next flight back, no questions asked. Let's not say goodbye yet."

I could. I could leave with him. Take off like I've always wanted to.

We'd go to Paris for a long weekend, maybe a week, then what? I'd come back to Verona and he'd go back to London? It would kill me. Letting him leave now was already painful. If I spent another day with him, another two, three…

Better to cut this off at the pass. I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

His mouth pinched. "Who said I was giving you a choice?"

I rolled my eyes. "What are you going to do? Carry me over your shoulder onto the plane."

His eyes flashed with possibility.

Shit. "Why don't you stay in Verona a bit longer?" I asked, before he got any ideas.

He shook his head, his lip curling. "I can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "And I can't leave."

He let go of me and stepped back, the cold air rushing in between us like a jolt of reality.

"It was a stupid idea anyway."

"Roman, please…" I pleaded. I hated that he was angry at me. I hated that we were saying goodbye like this.

His phone beeped. "My ride is here." Roman slipped it into his pocket and grabbed his duffel bag. He turned to walk out.

"Please don't leave angry with me," I said, quietly.

He froze. He glanced over his shoulder and his gaze caught mine. I could see it, the sadness and regret underneath the anger. The same things that were burning inside of me.

For a second I thought he might turn around and walk across the room towards me, closing the distance like I desperately wanted him to do.

"The room has been paid for until tomorrow," he said.

Then he was gone.

No goodbyes.

No last kiss.

Just gone.